


Losing Time

by independentwriter137



Category: Ant-Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Spoilers, Everyone lives, F/M, Fix-It, Meta Humor, Scott Lang-centric, a lot angstier and somber than i wouldve like welp, absolutely no hate on either heroes is allowed here, basically mostly who got dusted is mentioned, basically the events of endgame still happen, because really what was going on sometimes, but scott’s like fuck this, let’s bring everyone back for a happy ending, no one dies, none of this make sense anyway, or any of the heroes tbh, some commentary on how thor was treated, they're all precious and we protect them all in this house, thoughts on Cap and Tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-27
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2020-02-07 12:47:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18620935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/independentwriter137/pseuds/independentwriter137
Summary: If Scott Lang is confused most of the time, it's only because absolutely none of what's happening makes any sense. He kinda wants to point out that this time travelling plan sounds like it’s full of paradoxes and loops and all those things you’re supposed to avoid when you time travel (if this were a movie like Back to the Future, he’d even go so far as to say that the plan’s full of plot holes), but he keeps his mouth shut. What does he know anyway?





	Losing Time

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I've only seen Endgame once, so any quotes here from the movie are probably not verbatim. Some scenes might also be out of sequence and I'll probably edit this thing a bit once I've seen the film a couple more times. Also, since this is Scott-centric, there's quite a few references to the Ant-Man films and their deleted scenes. This is my first Marvel fic, so I'm still working out characterizations/tone/etc. but I had fun writing it (and venting about some Feelings in general).

Scott tumbles out of the Quantum Realm with Hope’s name on his lips and the knowledge that something is very, very wrong. He doesn’t know where he is, but he knows where he _should_ be and who should be here with him, and it’s definitely not supposed to be that beady eyed rat that’s staring him down. He calls out Hope’s name a few more times, calls for Janet and Hank too for good measure, but his yelling is as pointless here as it was for the past five hours in the Quantum Realm.

As far as he can tell, he’s in some kind of storage facility. There’s a security camera in the corner pointing in his direction that he _hopes_ isn’t just for show (and if it is, the tiny not-freaked-out part of Scott’s brain makes a mental note to have Luis offer X-CON’s services once everything’s sorted out.)

One flustered security guard and unceremonious kick out later, Scott finds himself towing a wagon like a five-year old running away from home and trying to piece together the fragments of San Francisco he recognizes from the newfound strangeness of the city. And yeah, okay, so he’s been on house arrest for the past two years and his latest adventure around the city wasn’t exactly for sightseeing, but he would’ve noticed all these shutdown stores and support group flyers and---

\-- _and that big ass domino-like thing where the park used to be._

Yeah, he definitely would’ve noticed that.

It becomes really clear, really quickly that this isn’t some modern art display. It’s a memorial.

 _Vanished list,_ the memorial says, and what the fuck does that even mean? Vanished where? Vanished how? Vanished _why?_ There’s so many names—rows and rows and rows of names carved into the stone. Scott pushes people out of the way, searching for the last names that begin with an _L_ and praying to every god out there that Cassie’s name isn’t here—Cassie, his little girl who he saw just this morning. Cassie, who he’s supposed to pick up from soccer practice later. Cassie, who’s ten-years old and too young and too good to be gone already and—oh fuck—his heart seizes when he sees the name _Lang_ , but it’s not Cassie’s name on memorial. It’s his.

It’s surreal, to say the least. Fucking weird, if he’s being more accurate. His mother always said he’d be late to his own funeral, but, well, he never thought she meant it _literally._

Scott searches for Maggie’s name and Paxton’s name and feels like he might throw up when he spots Hope and Janet and Hank and Luis and Dave’s names carved as deeply into the stone as his name is. But he’s here, isn’t here? Breathing, walking, _panicking?_ He’s very much, well, not vanished. And if he’s here, he refuses to believe the others aren’t out there somewhere just as confused as he is.

He backs away from the memorial, both because he wants to get as far away from this vanished list as he possibly can and because he needs to check on Cassie. Like, _right now._ The walk to Maggie and Paxton’s house is more nerve-wracking than diving into the mind meltingness of the Quantum Realm. There’s so many— _too_ many—flyers of missing people pasted on every post he passes by. He tries to ask a kid who looks vaguely like the eight-year old who lives around the block (Scott didn’t know he had an older brother. Or maybe this is a cousin) but the kid is quiet, eyes far too old and haunted for such a young face, and bikes away.

By the time he reaches the door, his heart is in his throat and he remembers walking up these very steps just a few days ago, ringing the doorbell and taking Cassie out to paint the town red like he promised. His knocking’s a little frantic and he waits for Cassie to coming rushing out for a hug or for Maggie to tell him to knock it off, but instead a teenaged girl hovers uncertainly just beyond the screen door. He pauses, at a loss, and the girl stares at him like she’s seen a ghost.

The way she approaches him kind of reminds him of Hope when she reunited with Janet, hesitant at first, then surging forward like her feet can’t carry her fast enough. The screen door dividing them is yanked open and suddenly he can see her clearly—her wide brown eyes and button nose, Maggie’s chin and his smile.

 _It can’t be,_ he thinks, _but it is, it is._

Then suddenly Cassie’s in his arms and he hugs her back just as fiercely, relieved she’s okay and impossibly heartbroken that she’s grown up in the span of a _day._

He’s heard of parents feeling like their kids grow up in the blink of an eye, but this is _insane_.

“How—what—Cassie?” he sputters

“I knew you’d come back. I _knew_ it,” Cassie says, her voice muffled by his chest.

He pulls back, smooths the hair away from her face and tries not to get distracted by how grown up his little girl looks. “What’s going on, Cassie? I got stuck in the Quantum Realm for a few hours and now suddenly there’s a vanished list and I’m on it and Hope’s on it and not to mention that you—you’re so big now! I don’t even know where to begin,” he says.

“You don’t know,” Cassie says, and her face crumbles in the kind of sorrow that Scott would have done anything to keep from ever touching her. She tugs on his arm and leads him inside the house, which, thankfully, looks more or less exactly how he remembers it. She seats him on the couch and opens her mouth a few times before shaking her head. The same haunted look lingers in her eyes and Scott wonders if she’s grown up in more ways than one.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, Daddy,” she whispers.

He grabs one of her hands in both of his and smiles at her. “You can tell me anything, Peanut.”

Then, Cassie starts crying.

* * *

So his first move is calling the Avengers.

Well, _driving_ to the Avengers compound anyway.

Apparently half the world—the _universe—_ was turned to dust because some Barney the Purple Dinosaur reject with a ball sack for a chin decided that achieving balance meant snapping away half the universe’s population. Scott’s not entirely sure why the asshat didn’t double the universe’s resources instead, but he guesses the power to bend time and reality doesn’t necessarily give you the power of common sense.

He takes Luis’ van and hauls ass across the country, trying desperately not to think about the fact that Maggie’s barely holding it together since her parents got dusted and how Paxton’s been working around the clock to maintain order in the city, or how Kurt is back somewhere in Russia searching for what remains of his family, or how Hope and Hank and Janet and Luis and Dave were here one second and gone the next, or how he’s been missing for _five years._

Five fucking years.

Scott wonders if this is how Captain America felt after waking up from the iceberg, a man out of time. The world Scott knows is gone—well, half of it anyway. _Not gone, just vanished,_ he reminds himself because vanished isn’t the same as dead. He’s _not_ driving a dead man’s van (he’s resolutely _not_ remembering how Luis picked him up from prison, girlfriend-less, dad-less, mom-less, but still so fucking proud of the van), and he’s _not_ carrying the last of the Pym particles in his bag (he’s especially not trying to remember the last words he said to Hope or the last words she said to him, or thinking about how terrible it is that Janet finally got out of the Quantum Realm just to turn to dust because of a fucking lunatic). He’s thinking about Cassie and her faith in him, her assertion that _“You can do it. You can do anything. You’re the world’s greatest grandma, remember?”_

She thinks he’s going to save everyone. She thinks he can save the _universe._

Scott barely thought he could handle Darren Cross when he first put on the Ant-Man suit. How the hell is he supposed to handle some alien calling himself the Mad Titan?

But he has to try. He owes it to everyone who’s here and everyone who isn’t here to try because the past five years seem nothing short of a complete clusterfuck of horror and loss.

He still can’t believe it’s been five years.

Scott’s no expert on quantum physics (half the time, he’s sure Hank just sticks the word _quantum_ in front of everything to make it sound more science-y) but he knows enough about the Quantum Realm to understand that the laws of physics that govern the universe as people know it don’t apply. Space isn’t the same, _time_ isn’t the same. Without anyone to guide or control his exit from the Quantum Realm, he’s lucky he only missed out on five years. Hell, he’s lucky he didn’t end up going back in time to the dinosaurs or something.

  _Holy shit, that’s it._

If there was a way to control the exact point of time you enter and exit the Quantum Realm…if there was some way to navigate it…if there was a device that let the wearer choose when and where they wanted to go and when and where they wanted to come back…

It’s a half-baked idea at best. More of a shot in the dark, really. Scott’s come up with his fair share of crazy schemes in his life, but time travel? Seriously? But he can already feel his mind turning the idea over, picking up fragments from his limited knowledge of quantum physics and merging it with the part of his brain that’s a careful planner and a skilled engineer, and suddenly the idea starts turning into something that vaguely resembles an actual concept.

The people he knows with the skills to actually work out the finer details and bring the concept to fruition are dust, but luckily he’s already headed in the right direction. He steps on the gas, speeding towards the Avenger’s compound.

 _It’s gonna work, Cassie_ , he promises silently. _It has to._

* * *

 Scott’s mind is in overdrive, part of him is still reeling from recent events, _another_ part of him is still silently freaking out over the fact that Captain America and Black Widow are right there, and his stomach is finally getting the memo that he hasn’t eaten in a while (five hours or five years—either way it’s a long time and he deserves that PB&J sandwich, alright?)

His mouth is working overtime to talk and chew and not choke in the process. It would be really embarrassing if he started choking right now.

He tries his best to turn concepts into words, but just saying the words _time travel_ out loud feel ridiculous. Most of the shit coming out of his mouth barely makes any sense, but Cap and Widow seem to be taking him seriously enough.

 “And usually Hope—well, Hope is my—was my— _is_ my—” he finds himself saying, and he knows, he _knows_ that no one in the room gives a damn about who Hope is or who she is _to him_ and that there are far more important details that he needs to be talking about, but he can’t get his brain to process anything past the thought. This is the part where Hope reels his harebrained ideas in with some science-y, particle-y explanation because that’s just how they balance each other out, but she’s _gone_ and, shit, he can’t even say the words _girlfriend_ or _partner_ because she vanished before they could really discuss anything and—

 _Clear your mind, Scott,_ he imagines Hope saying, and lets that train of thought go.

“So you want to build a time machine?” Black Widow says.

“No!” he says on reflex because calling it a time machine make it sound dumb, but then he pauses and realizes he can’t really think of anything else to call it. “Well, yes, a time machine. I know it sounds crazy, but—”

“After everything we’ve seen, nothing’s crazy anymore,” Widow says.

And just like that, Scott’s successfully pitched the idea of a time machine.

* * *

 Tony Stark doesn’t want to help.

Okay, not entirely true. Tony Stark doesn’t want to risk what he has, which is, well, frustrating for Scott and everyone else who needs his help. They’ve all got someone they lost, people they need to bring back, and now they’re so close to what might actually be a way to save half the universe, but they can’t because Stark’s afraid.

As much as Scott would like to channel Hank scoffing and spitting out the name _Stark_ like a curse word, he can’t really find it in himself to blame the guy. Before being an Avenger, Tony Stark’s a father. A husband. Scott can respect that. There isn’t anything Scott wouldn’t do to protect Cassie and he imagines that it’s pretty much the same for Stark. Morgan looks up at her father with adoring wide eyes and Stark looks at his daughter like he’s been given a second chance at life. It’s not fair, Scott thinks, to ask Stark to risk his loved ones to save everyone else’s loved ones.

Tony Stark has done his part in this fight, was even prepared to die in space for this fight, and he deserves every bit of happiness that he’s managed to piece together from what remains of the world. Tony Stark deserves to rest.

There are other people who can keep fighting. Like him. Like Cap. Like Widow. Like Rhodey. And, later, the Hulk (or is it Bruce? Or Professor Hulk? Bruce Hulker? Scott’s really not sure what’s going on there, but maybe this and that talking racoon is what Widow meant when she said that they’re so past the realm of crazy that time machines don’t even phase them).

* * *

 Working with Banner is…an experience.

Scott’s used to Hank’s gruff confidence and the surety of Hope’s movements, not Banner’s fumbling (seriously, wouldn't the fine motor skills of Bruce Banner be more useful here than Hulk’s, uh, _hulking_ hands?) and nervous half-smiles.

Scott thinks he’s gonna die. Or get trapped in the past. Or maybe just get trapped in the Quantum Realm in general. He hopes he picks up some of Janet’s quantum powers, at least.

He steps into position and braces himself as Banner starts the time machine anyway. Someone’s got to do it.

Suddenly he’s a teenager again and— _whoa_ there’s an influx of hormones and voice cracking he’d rather leave in the past. Then, he’s an old man and there’s so many aches and pains that he decides to give Hank some slack the next time his mentor’s feeling cranky. Then, he’s a baby and now _he’s_ feeling cranky. And maybe Scott’s not dying, but this kind of counts as his life flashing before his eyes.

By the time he feels like himself again, his time travel suit is a lot wetter in the groin area than it used to be. He peed his pants at some point—at some _age._ He’s wondering if the suit is washing machine safe when Tony Stark walks into the room, carrying the solution to all their time travelling problems in the palm of his hand.

“I’m not handing this to you until you put on a new pair of pants,” Stark says, his eyes narrowing from behind his tinted shades.

“Maybe you can time travel and show up _before_ I wet my pants,” Scott quips easily. He shakes his head, but he’s smiling. Of course Tony Stark figured out time travel overnight. Of course he did.

Hank always did say that a Stark never knows when to quit.

* * *

 Scott gets tacos while Romanoff retrieves Barton and Stark does whatever geniuses do to make the impossible possible. The last time he enjoyed taco truck cuisine, he was with Hope in that weird I’m-sorry-for-stealing-your-dad’s-suit-and-forcing-you-into-hiding-from-the-FBI stage of their relationship. He sighs, filling the taco shell. Three years in San Quentin, two years on house arrest, and five years in the Quantum Realm. It seems like he’s always losing time.

A ship lands out of nowhere, blowing most of his taco away, and Rhodey slams to the ground next to him, startling him so badly that he drops what’s left of the taco. The scary blue lady’s mean, Bruce Hulker offers him a new taco with a warm smile, the talking raccoon jumps into a van, and Scott feels way in over his head.

This will all be an awesome bedtime story to tell Cassie, at least. Scott pauses, remembering that Cassie’s fifteen now, not ten, and idly wonders if she still has any use for bedtime stories.

* * *

 They call it a Time Heist, but this is nothing like any heist Scott’s ever pulled before. And not because of the time travel part, but the sheer lack of planning and surety. He’s used to scoping out places for days, sometimes even _weeks_ , taking note of every detail until he’s sure that there’ll be no surprises when he gets to burgling. Holes in a plan is what gets you caught. Unexpected challenges in the middle of a job is what lands you in _jail._ Scott doesn’t think a lot of things through a lot of the time, but heists? If there are two things he has a fine eye for detail for, it’s engineering and taking something that he probably shouldn’t be taking. Sure, the former’s been put to more work recently under Hank’s tutelage, but Scott’s done too many heists in his life to forget how it works.

And this is definitely _not_ how it works.

Not that there’s any way to scope out the Battle of New York. Or Asgard. Or any of it really. Scott knows there’s a plan of sorts, but if he’s being honest, he doesn’t really get it.

He kinda wants to point out that none of this makes sense, that this time travelling plan sounds like it’s full of paradoxes and loops and all those things you’re supposed to avoid when you time travel. If this were a movie like _Back to the Future,_ he’d even go so far as to say that the plan’s full of plot holes, but he keeps his mouth shut because what does he know? All he’s got is a masters in electrical engineering, not the galaxy brain that Tony Stark or Bruce Banner does. Even the raccoon treats him like an idiot and while the tiny childish part of him wants to whine to the raccoon that this whole time travel thing was _his_ idea, he lets the insult roll of his back. Scott doesn’t really care about being the guy with the biggest brain or the hero kids want to take pictures with. He’ll be happy as long as they get everyone back, as long as he makes Cassie proud and does right by his family and friends. If that means keeping his trap shut and doing what he’s told, then he’ll do it.

They’re finally broken up into teams, each team assigned a specific stone. Scott and Stark are going after the Space Stone, Cap after the Mind Stone, and Banner after the Time Stone in New York while Nebula and Rhodey get the Power Stone, Romanoff and Barton get the Soul Stone, and Rocket and Thor get the Reality Stone.

Scott’s a little embarrassed that he did a double take when Thor walked through the doors. There’s a joke somewhere there about how he’s only seen Thor in pictures before and the irony of cameras adding pounds, but the whole situation is sadder that it is funny. Scott’s met his fair share of guys with PTSD in prison, met a few with some serious cases of survivor’s guilt and depression too. As far as he can tell, Thor might’ve been one of the strongest Avengers, but even the strongest Avengers crack. Scott might have a penchant for poorly timed jokes and acting ridiculous for the sake of bringing levity to heavy situations, but he’s not about to poke fun at someone so obviously hurting for the sake of a cheap laugh.

Cap has them gather in a circle and while Scott’s still a little star struck (come on, it’s Captain freaking America), it suddenly strikes him that beneath the flashy costume and collectible card-worthy poses, Captain America is still Steve Rogers. A soldier. A man. And he’s hurting just as bad as Thor. The tiredness hangs off Cap like a second skin and despite his famous catchphrase, it hits Scott that Captain America _can’t_ do this all day. Then, Cap squares his shoulders and gives his speech and the guy’s back to being a beacon of hope and inspiration.

“He’s pretty good at that,” Rocket says.

And because, recent realizations and impending high risk mission aside, Scott’s still a huge Captain America fan boy, he shakes his head in admiration and disbelief. “Right?” he says.

Then they’re off, hurtling through space and time.

* * *

 Of all the things to thwart them, who would’ve thought it’d be a fucking _door._ Cap comes back with the Mind Stone while Scott and Stark come back with new bruises. Normally, Scott would count this as a win, but the gauntlet won’t work without _all_ the stones. There’s not enough Pym particles to make another trip, which means they blew their chance. He points this out, but Stark and Cap are locked in an intense half-sentence, half-I-know-exactly-what-you’re-thinking conversation that only they understand. Next thing Scott knows, he’s holding onto the weird staff thing with the Mind Stone alone in an alley. He sighs and shrugs, setting the time device to return him to the future. Or is it his present? Whatever, time travel’s confusing. They’re all set to arrive at the same time anyway. He’ll get his answers then.

* * *

 They complete the stones and lose a friend. Natasha Romanoff’s sacrifice fuels everyone’s movements with a tinge of desperation. Scott didn’t know her for very long or very well, but her absence is a physical thing. She was strong and levelheaded, badass but kind. _The backbone of the team_ , he heard Banner say to Cap. _My best friend. My family,_ Barton cried when he realized they didn’t even have a body to bury. 

* * *

 The plan works. Banner snaps his fingers and Scott can _feel_ it. The air is different somehow, the ground sturdier under his feet. Whatever the fuck Thanos was trying to achieve wasn’t balance, Scott thinks, because this, this right here is balance—people who should be here returned to exactly where they should be, families made whole again, and the whole universe a little fuller.

He feels light, so light, and he can’t wait to hear Luis’ long winded story about what the past five years have been like for him trapped in the soul stone (with all the wrong details, of course), or the sound of Maggie’s voice cracking with relief knowing that her parents are okay and Paxton can get a decent night’s sleep for once, or see Hope’s smile when they finally reunite with her safe and whole and _alive._

The smile on Scott’s face is irrepressible, but he’s not trying to hide it anyway. He wonders if Cassie can feel this rightness of the universe too. “We did it, Cassie,” he says. “It worked.”

Then, the world is exploding.

* * *

 There’s no time to think and barely any space to move, but as Ant-Man he can dodge and worm his way through every nook and cranny to get to Rhodey and Rocket and as Giant-Man he can _make_ space to save the two from drowning.

Everything is a blur of fighting and dodging and trying to take out those weird flying alien whales that have completely destroyed the compound. He spots a big purple blob in the middle of the debris battling Cap and Thor and Stark. Scott could’ve sworn Thanos was dead, but apparently ball sack chinned aliens are extremely hard to kill. He wonders if there’s any way he can step on the Mad Titan. Sure, he’ll be scraping purple guts off his shoes for weeks, but it would be worth it.

The battle goes on and on and there’s only so many remaining Avengers left and they’re starting to wear out. Scott can see Cap preparing to make his final stand and _nope,_ this can’t be happening. Not after everything they’ve done. Not after all the sacrifices that’s been made. Not after they _finally_ brought everybody back.

Then, the sky lights up.

Scott’s worried that the are _more_ ugly ass aliens coming in through the portals, but then he sees Black Panther himself, then Falcon, then Doctor Strange and the Scarlet Witch and the Winter Soldier and Spider-Man and a whole host of people he doesn’t recognize. He could’ve sworn they all got dusted in different places and he’s not entirely sure how the portals are deciding who does and doesn’t get brought back in the middle of a battlefield, but he’s certainly not complaining about the back up. (He really hopes that the portal left Hank and Janet back in San Francisco though. Those two are badasses in their own right, but it’ll be really awkward if they showed up here. There’s not even a decent place to sit down and watch the fight.)

* * *

 After Scott reminds Cap that they still have his van (and the distinctive sound of Luis’ horn is as embarrassing as it is useful), he and Hope find each other in the middle of the battlefield.

“We’re on it, Cap,” she says, and he makes a mental note to tease her about that later because goddamn it there _will_ be a later.

And yeah everyone’s fighting around them, but sue him if he takes a second to smile at her, drinking in her presence and enjoying the giddiness that they’re here, together-- _Ant-man and the Wasp teaming up again!_ There’s so much he wants to tell her, still can’t believe it’s been _five_ years since he’s seen her, but now’s not the time and they already understand all that needs to be understood right now. _We’re alive. We’re together. We’ll make it through this too._

Is it cheesy if he thinks that in that one second everything disappeared but the two of them? Definitely. Does he particularly care? No, not really.

* * *

The rest of the fight passes in a blur after the van blows up. Scott helps where he can, shrinking and growing to suit his needs. Giant-Man might be more helpful right now, but Scott doesn’t think he has it in him to go that big again.

He’s in the middle of throwing a punch when his fist suddenly strikes air, the alien he was fighting suddenly turning to dust. One by one, Thanos’ forces fall and it turns Scott’s stomach to imagine this happening to half the universe five years ago.

Everyone is still, their victory not quite setting in yet. It’s over. It’s finally over. Thanos is gone and they’re still here and there aren’t enough words to capture the magnitude of what’s just happened.

Then word gets out that Tony Stark is dead, sacrificed himself so everyone else could live, and everyone is still for a different reason entirely.

* * *

Scott doesn’t say anything during the funeral because it’s probably all kinds of offensive to talk about bringing a dead guy back to life if he can’t actually bring a dead guy back to life, so he keeps his mouth shut.

When the service is over, Scott leads Hope away from the mourners to tell him about his latest harebrained idea and waits for her to smoothen out the craziness to make it work.

“You can’t bring back the dead, Scott,” Hope tells him because apparently in a world where time travel and giant green men and talking raccoons exist, necromancy is where the line is drawn, but whatever, that’s not what Scott means.

“Well not _back_ from the dead. I mean we take a living Tony Stark from the past but make him live here. Now,” Scott says.

Hope shakes her head. “Doesn’t that create a paradox? If we take Tony Stark from the past, then we’re taking him away from the life he _should_ be living in that moment. Eventually, that Tony will reach the point where, in our timeline, he’s supposed to solve time travel except he _can’t_ because he would be _here,_ in which case—”

“Going back to the past won’t change the future. Or the present. Basically whatever we do in the past won’t change what’s going on now. Or what’s already happened. I think.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“I don’t know,” Scott says, frustrated. “It sounded more convincing when Bruce said it. All I know is if that green alien chick from the past can live in the future—or is it present? Her future? Our present? Whatever, if she can live _now,_ then why can’t Stark? Or Romanoff, for that matter? Also, I’m pretty sure 2019 Nebula killed off her 2014 self and yet she’s still here. What’s all that about?”

Hope purses her lips and for a second, Scott thinks she’s about to give him a reasonable if not convoluted explanation about how all this makes sense, but all she says is, “Okay.”

He blinks. “Just like that?”

“Just like that,” Hope agrees. “I’m not entirely sure how _any_ of this time stuff makes sense at this point, but I do know that Tony deserves a happy ending. That’s what he’s given the entire universe, isn’t it?” Hope looks back at little Morgan sitting next to Happy and a wry grin pulls at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, I know what it’s like to grow up without a father. Morgan shouldn’t have to grow up without her dad is she doesn’t have to.”

Scott squeezes Hope’s hand and her grin turns into something soft, a smile that Scott can’t help but return. “Come on,” he says. “Let’s go use the time machine while everyone’s distracted by that old man on the bench. We’ve got enough Pym particles to bring back Stark, Romanoff, and—I’m just throwing this out there—Peggy Carter.”

“ _What?”_

“I just feel bad for Cap, you know? He’s dedicated his whole life to putting other people ahead of himself. Would it be selfish of him to use time travel to get back the love of his life? Well, yeah, but don’t you think the guy’s earned the right to a little selfishness? I mean—”

“Scott.”

“No, you’re right. Peggy had a whole life after him. We can’t just uproot her entire existence and plant her in our time. That’s seriously messed up. We can’t do that to her.”

“Scott.”

“Not that I'm saying she’d _let_ us to that. I saw a documentary with Agent Carter once and _man_ she would kick my ass before I could even get the words _time travel_ out of—”

“ _Scott!”_ Hope says, her eyes glued to the old man passing Sam Wilson Captain America’s shield.

“What?” he asks.

“I think Cap was way ahead of you on the Peggy front.”

“Oh my God," Scott says as he eyes the old man embracing the Winter Soldier with a hearty pat on the back. "I really can’t believe we haven’t broken time at this point.”

Hope sighs. “ _Back to the Future_ had less plot holes than this.”

Scott beams at her. “Right? That’s exactly what I was thinking!”

* * *

They step out of the time machine. Stark’s eyes are wide behind his tinted glasses and Scott doesn’t think he’s ever seen a Stark at a loss for words. Scott taps Stark’s arm and jerks his head in the direction of where Pepper and Morgan are staring them in awe. Hope whispers something to Natasha Romanoff and Romanoff reaches for Stark’s hand.

“Don’t worry,” Scott says, clapping his hand on Stark’s shoulder. “I didn’t make it to my funeral either. Worked out pretty well, if you ask me.”

“None of this makes any sense,” Stark says.

Scott shrugs. “Didn’t make any sense before either. Might as well not make sense and be happy. And alive.”

“We’ll never fully understand the Quantum Realm, Tony, and the laws of physics as we know it don’t apply there. Just go to your family and don’t look a gift horse in the mouth. You too, Agent Romanoff,” Hope says.

“That’s the answer you’re going with? The Quantum Realm is mysterious, don’t question it?” Scott asks once Stark and Romanoff are out of earshot.

Hope raises an eyebrow at him. “You got a better explanation?”

“Uh, existence as we know it is really just all a simulation and we’re all actors moving in service of a plot created by beings far more powerful than us?” Scott pauses and wrinkles his nose. “Nah, that’s too pretentious. Let’s go with the Quantum Realm thing.”

Snorting a laugh, Hope tugs Scott in the direction of her parents. “Come on, you’ve still got to explain to my dad how you hand delivered his prized Pym Particle straight to a Stark. That should be fun.”

He pretends to grimace, but he's pretty sure Hank will give him a pass on this one, on account of saving the universe and all that. “Skip that and go straight to stargazing with Cassie?” he says instead because as it turns out, Cassie  _does_ still want to hear stories about his crazy adventures and she was so happy to hear Hope's voice again too that she started crying into the telephone receiver.

Tapping a finger against her chin, Hope pretends to think about it. “Well how could I say no to that?” 

Her eyes are bright and her smile is wide and Scott is pretty sure that this is what a happy ending looks like.

* * *

 Bonus:

“OH SHIT WAIT, HOPE, I FORGOT TO BRING BACK VISION!”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Okay okay okay I feel like I SHOULD say that I actually enjoyed Endgame a lot (just had to turn off my thinking cap to get on board with the plot) and that I understand why the character arcs concluded the way they did, BUT as a fan who loves these characters, I also just wanna see them all alive and happy and getting their happy endings, hence this fic (which is a really really rough first draft and needs editing welp but I needed to get these feelings out). Anyway, I'd love to talk more about Endgame with anyone here, so feel free to comment on your own Endgame feelings and let's chat!


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